But My Animatic Is At 50 Frames Now So Maybe I Won After All

reunited ♥️

I know I know I know we’ve all talked about it but

the constant affirmation that link doesn’t have to go alone this time

even just…..everyone at lookout landing knows his name. they’re happy to see him come home safe. the presence and protection of the sages. the home he shares with zelda in hateno. “you don’t have to fight all by yourself, you know!”

botw was a poignantly lonely game and I LOVED it for that, and I still do! but my heart is made fuller by the knowledge that link is no longer a forgotten relic wandering a kingdom he can’t recall. I’m happy that he is known. our boy really found a family didn’t he :,)

a comic about love and friendship and the power of communication, inspired by that time i heard ask by the smiths on my run and was somehow moved to tears

(i misheard 'the bomb' as 'the bond' but i stand by it. i don't value morrissey enough to respect his authorial intent)

(sensitive wolf fans smash that mf like button!!!!)

i talk my shit but do you guys remember being 12 and in 2008 and you heard viva la vida by coldplay for the first time and you were like fuck this is so powerful. i'm going to kick the ass of god

I feel like people struggle to understand that my life as an aorace person is not centered around an absence of relationships. There is no romance shaped void that I am trying to live with, or live around, or which my life's purpose is to fill somehow.

I go to university and I go to work and I volunteer in my community and in the in-between moments I drink tea with my friends and I plant tomatoes on my balcony and there is no need for anything else. There is no room for anything else anyway.

When I am asked how I deal with 'the hole in my life' or what I do with 'all my free time', I know these questions are not about me at all. They are a reflection of the person asking.

i dm’d thcscus about a month ago asking for permission to work on a printed copy of passerine, and it's finally here!

full cover design under the cut! (also much love to @ups1gbt3f7op3dr for letting me use their art)

you: i don’t really have sensory issues

also you:

hates your least favorite food because of the texture

wears the same 5 year old bra every day

wearing lots of jewelry irritates you

hates touching wet/soggy things

wore your socks inside out as a kid/always wear the same kind of socks

why won't that ticking noise stop!!

despises shirts with rough tags

October

by Mary Oliver

I. There’s this shape, black as the entrance to a cave. A longing wells up in its throat like a blossom as it breathes slowly.

What does the world mean to you if you can’t trust it to go on shining when you’re

not there? and there’s a tree, long-fallen; once the bees flew to it, like a procession of messengers, and filled it with honey.

II. I said to the chickadee, singing his heart out in the green pine tree:

little dazzler, little song, little mouthful.

III. The shape climbs up out of the curled grass. It grunts into view. There is no measure for the confidence at the bottom of its eyes– there is no telling the suppleness of its shoulders as it turns and yawns.

Near the fallen tree something–a leaf snapped loose from the branch and fluttering down–tries to pull me into its trap of attention.

IV. It pulls me into its trap of attention,

And when I turn again, the bear is gone.

V. Look, hasn’t my body already felt like the body of a flower?

VI. Look, I want to love this world as thought it’s the last chance I’m ever going to get to be alive and know it.

VII. Sometimes in late summer I won’t touch anything, not the flowers, not the blackberries brimming in the thickets; I won’t drink from the pond; I won’t name the birds or the trees; I won’t whisper my own name. One morning the fox came down the hill, glittering and confident, and didn’t see me–and I thought:

so this is the world. I’m not in it. It is beautiful.